


the rabbit hole

by divinemalefactor



Category: Cow Chop, Sugar Pine 7, Youtube RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Drug Use, Fake Chop, M/M, Police Squad 7, Squad 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2018-11-11 06:44:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11143014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divinemalefactor/pseuds/divinemalefactor
Summary: aleks in wonderland, if wonderland was full of weird white dudes and instead of falling down the rabbit hole he was pushed by his own crew.Warning: this work is unfinished and the seventh chapter is a draft and ugly to read. I will not be continuing it.





	1. Chapter 1

Oh god, what was he doing. His crew— his _friends_ — were somewhere out there doing fun, lucrative crime stuff and Aleks was stuck on the side of the road waiting. Waiting for Fake Chop’s ‘official’ rivals, no less. He supposed it was their inability to follow rules that made Police Squad 7 so good at their job, but surely this whole situation, which was essentially some kidnapping shit, was too much even for them. He could only guess at how legal it was, too, which was ironic considering their status as an elite Los Santos police force, 'specialized in the combat and removal of the gang known as Fake Chop'. As though they'd ever done anything but hinder them and play cat and mouse, so far.

It had begun with a bet, the details of which Aleks hadn’t been particularly interested in at the time, with the winner hosting a ‘sleepover’ for one member of the rival group. For all that they were police, Squad 7 were just as sporadic and ridiculous as Fake Chop, so their win shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise to Aleks as it was. With Brett being the boss it was logical that they would want him as he had a majority of vital information and was the base of every big decision from the gang. It was supposed to be Brett. During communications the Squad had hinted that it was going to be Brett. So, when the time came for them to collect on what they were promised, why had they decided on Aleks?

Aleks had been at the pick-up point in a small car park along a busy highway for thirty painful minutes before his wannabe-captors arrived.Their vehicle was a sleek thing that should not have been affordable to a basic police branch like Squad 7, and for a moment Aleks wasn’t entirely certain that it _was_ them. Sure enough, though, the car pulled up, James and Steven exiting the car and making their way towards Aleks. They looked so completely at ease, their calm demeanour only made Aleks more cagey. They were acting as though he were as much of a threat to them as a puppy who had been abandoned on the side of the road, unwanted and pathetic.

James had seen his face before, but next to him Steve was giving Aleks a curious assessment, his first time seeing Aleks without his signature motorcycle helmet, and the appraisal left Aleks feeling naked. Steven even had the nerve to give an easy smile as they approached, and it was enough that Aleks’ mindset was firmly lodged in an internal littany of ‘fuck you, fuck you, fuck you’. 

“Well, this was just bad planning,” Steven announced, coming to a stop just over a meter away from where Aleks was resting on the hood of his car. “We just realized there’s, uh, actually only two seats in my car, so you’re gonna have to come with me. Just give James your keys, he’ll take your car for you.” His eyes skipped from Aleks to his car, and it the look in his eyes reminded Aleks of a sleaze in a bar openly resting his attention on another man’s girl. Just openly ogling her tits, the pervert. Aleks shifted so he blocked the car pervert’s line of sight, raising his eyebrows Steven's attention was finally back on him. Amusement danced across Steven’s features for a moment before he turned and headed back to his car, not bothering to check if Aleks was following and finding the whole situation absolutely hilarious.

Aleks was tempted to walk off and leave and let the two cops do whatever the fuck their screwed up little clique did, but after a moment of tempting the notion he turned to James and gave him the keys. The response James gave was to give him look of exaggerated glee blatantly designed to irritate Aleks. It worked, and as James gave a mock bow of gratitude, Aleks contemplated kneeing him in the face, a suitable revenge for the punch to the solar plexus James had delivered him during their first meeting.

With a disgusted noise and one last dry glare, Aleks turned to follow Steven, who had taken to fiddling with the radio in his own car while waiting.

* * *

The discomfort on Aleks’ behalf was palpable, even hours after arriving at the house elected for the ‘sleepover’. It was furnished, but not personalized, absent of any pictures or homely touches that even the Fake Chop warehouse had managed to build up over time. Aleks figured it was either a headquarters or a new rental, but either way Squad 7 seemed completely comfortable there. They acted like Aleks was any other piece of furniture or a boring decoration as he explored the building, although sometimes he would catch someone looking too long at his face or studying his movements a little too close to be casual.

The most unnerving one, Parker, would keep staring even after Aleks caught him watching. He always disappeared when James came into the room, though, which was interesting. If nothing else this seven-day imprisonment would give Aleks a chance to analyse the opponent. He wasn't weak, he was useful to his gang.

He was usually the first to provide witty repartee in tense situations, but Aleks just couldn’t bring himself to do more than sit on a couch in the living room and write down various observations on his phone. He sent Brett a quick message to say he was alright but didn’t dare do more than that. The Squad had already shown they were skilled with technology, so as a precaution, he’d have to act as though his phone was being actively monitored until he found a way to ensure it wasn't.

Aleks had managed to get a decent amount of semi-relevant intel into his phone before it was snatched out of his hands. Cib was looking at the screen and frowning, taking a thoughtful inhale of his vape and ignoring the glare Aleks gave him. 

“You know the game football?” Cib asked, eyes still on the phone as he exhaled vapour. Aleks shifted uncomfortably as he tried to interpret the question. He wasn’t good at dealing with Cib, the guy seemed to be designed to throw him off.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Go long, baby,” Cib singsonged, turning and flinging the phone at the wall furthest from them, laughing as Aleks processed what had just happened and shot off the couch and tackled him to the ground. He kept laughing as they fell to the ground and Aleks started whaling on him

Cib sounded like a delighted child, an altogether unsettling noise considering Aleks was driving punch after punch into his stomach and ribs. The Squad, or at least James, must have been acquainted with Cib’s displaced noises enough to know that he was being attacked because mere moments after launching his attack, Aleks was dragged off of him and shoved violently back onto the couch.  
Aleks didn’t have time to collect himself before James had followed the shove up by straddling him and delivering a heavy blow down on to his face. There was no crunch, no broken nose or lost teeth, but pain bloomed up the right side of his head. From one punch alone, judging from the sting in his bottom lip, James had managed to split his lip with his first hit.

James had one hand curled in the front of Aleks’ shirt and another pulled back, ready to strike again, but held off. Aleks supposed James was confident enough, cocky enough, to know that one hit had been enough to get his point across. He was right. It was unsettling, having James in his personal space. Especially considering he was now looking at Aleks cross-eyed, his fist still raised, and Aleks was almost certain that he hadn’t looked like that before.

“Dude, what the fuck.” Aleks pulled a face and planted his hands on James’ shoulders, shoving him off in disgust. James allowed himself to be pushed away, somehow just knowing Aleks wasn't going to try anything and fell gracelessly on his ass. Cib was still lying on the ground, no longer laughing, but grinning and breathing heavily. “That’s fucked up,” Aleks mumbled, getting to his feet unsteadily. While not completely incapacitating, the hit and been disorientating and his face really fucking stung.

Gritting his teeth Aleks headed over to where his phone had been thrown, not expecting the hand that wrapped around his ankle and yanked his foot out from under him. His hands shot out to meet the ground first and save his face from further injury, bracing him for half a second before his elbows gave out and he landed on his stomach.

After taking a moment to catch his breath Aleks rolled onto his back and sat up, glaring at Cib. The idiot’s hand was still firmly wrapped around his ankle, and as Aleks glared at him he just grinned. A sharp kick dislodged the grip and Aleks got to his feet again, more cautious. Cib didn’t make any more moves to stop him, instead opting to drag himself on his stomach towards James, saying something about ‘circus eyes’ that Aleks didn’t really care to pay attention to.

Aleks took the opportunity to retrieve his phone from where it had landed, even though he fucking knew that the phone would have been broken. It looked worse than Aleks has anticipated, cracks in the screen splintering out from a top corner and missing a few shards of the screen nearer the centre of the break. He pressed the ‘on’ button, the screen coming to bright hopeful life for a second before flickering to black, and then gave a long, loud sigh. He turned back to the other two, expression carefully schooled to have just the right amount of bitch, which they rudely didn’t pay attention to.

The fact that they were cops was just baffling to Aleks. He eyed them as Cib grabbed James’ face and patted his cheeks roughly, only for James to relate by slapping him back twice as hard.

“I can’t deal with this,” he announced mostly to himself, electing to leave before they turned their attention back to him. He had nearly escaped the lounge when he practically collided with Parker, who he hadn’t noticed was standing just on the other side of the doorway. “Can I help you?” He asked, too uncomfortable to be annoyed. When a few moments passed and it became clear that Parker wasn’t going to answer, Aleks scrubbed a hand down his face, taking a moment to think.

Somehow, in the house of unparalleled eccentricities, he felt saner and more human than he had in years. It was like being around a group of freaks worse than Fake Chop had forced Aleks into a state of normalcy, and he didn’t fucking like it. There was no helmet on his head, no fire burning away in a corner, and no shouts as rubber bullets ricocheted off the walls. It made him feel better, remembering that Fake Chop wasn’t a typical friend group either, but ultimately Aleks was at a loss. He missed being one of the ones to make others step back in unease. He wanted that back.

He made a quick, impulsive plan and fuck it, he was prepared for how much it was going to hurt.


	2. Chapter 2

Aleks’ initial idea had been to headbutt Parker, or maybe just slug him, but as he shifted his feet into a wider stance, a baser instinct won out, which worked well enough for him. Without a proper plan, and only driven by some inane and sudden desire to be as reckless as possible, Aleks decided to just use brute force to push through the obstacle in his path. 

Bending over at the waist he pushed himself forward, getting as low as he could before ramming his shoulder into Parker’s stomach, wrapping his arms around him as he surged forward. He felt rather than heard the breath being forced out of Parker’s lungs by the sudden contact before Aleks pushed upwards and sent the two of them falling through the doorway, the world tipping as they fell.

Whatever Parker had been expecting, that apparently hadn’t been it, because he hadn't even _attempted_ to counter it. He was only just remembering how to breathe again when Aleks struggled to get off of him, struggling to his feet and racing off, his aim was to get a weapon or any form of brief escape. He headed forward with no real destination in mind, just aiming for wherever the fuck an option presented itself.

He didn’t make it far, running a couple of steps before someone swiped his legs out from under him as he passed by. Aleks went down so fast he didn’t have time to collect himself, only just slamming his hands down in time to avoid completely smashing his face open on the tiles that signalled official kitchen territory. He was getting damn good at saving his face from sudden close relations from the floor.

Recovering quickly Aleks dragged himself to his feet and stumbled further into the kitchen, only for whoever had tripped him to put him in a headlock and drag him roughly backwards. Aleks’ hands flew to the arm around his neck in an attempt to ease the pressure that not only made it hard to breathe but also really _fucking hurt, thanks_. It did next to nothing.

Aiming an elbow jab at the body behind him Aleks was rewarded by access to oxygen as he connected, hard enough to jar them. As the pressure eased Aleks pulled away, simultaneously tugging the hold away completely with his other hand. Free from the hold, Aleks spun to confront his attacker.

It was the other creepy guy, the one with more sense and a beard. Jeremy.

Cib and James had also entered the room by then, James looking annoyed and Cib smiling a little too wide to be genuine. Even as Aleks was about to get his ass beat he revelled in the entertainment and odd comfort it brought him. The chaos was familiar. It was reassuring. Identity crisis successfully averted.

Aleks took a deep breath and prepared to fight with everything he had, not expecting Jeremy to pull a fucking shovel out of nowhere and wield it in front of him like a club. He looked from it to Jeremy, to Cib and James, and back to the shovel.

“Hey. What the actual fuck?”

Nobody answered. 

Jeremy took a threatening step forward, to which Aleks responded by taking an equally spaced step back. Jeremy took two steps forward. Aleks took one very large step back.

There was a moment of taut silence, broken by Cib inhaling from his vape.

Aleks spun and launched himself up onto the kitchen island, trying to vault over the other side and get away from the shovel-holding maniac. There was the sound of movement behind him and then before he could make it over the wider-than-anticipated counter the flat of the tool was brought down hard on his back. Sharp pain shot out from the point of impact, almost immediately giving way to a dull, full-bodied ache.

The strike was enough for drive Aleks off balance and send him spilling to the floor over the other side with an ungraceful thud, landing him roughly on the ground for the hundredth time that day.

It was significantly harder to get up than the other times, though, pain shooting up the arm Aleks had landed on as he tried to push himself up. A second and third attempt to get to his feet were needed, but James and Jeremy were already too close. James seemed like the safer confrontation at that point, what with the lack of shovel, so Aleks threw a haphazard punch towards his face, only half-surprised when it was avoided. It took seconds for the fight to descend into a doggie pile of people whaling on Aleks, and fuck. Maybe Aleks regretted this.

* * *

The squad hadn’t murdered him, which was cool, and honestly, the injuries weren’t as bad as Aleks had thought they would be. His torso was red and would have some dark bruising, his lip was swollen, and his legs were fucked.

Jeremy was pretty good at patching people up as it turned out, putting some spray shit on the worst of a dazed Aleks’ body and doing his best to deal with the beating he’d endured.

The exact details of how the fight ended and how they ended up seated at the kitchen bench with Aleks’ shirt off was lost to Aleks, but what he did know was that the pain was severe enough that he was grateful for the treatment. There was no kindness in Jeremy’s touch, just professionalism, as though Aleks were a damaged machine that needed fixing. Not that he didn’t minded. His own crew would have been rougher.

The treatment didn’t do enough to ease the actual pain from the injuries, though, and as soon as Jeremy had finished assessing the damage and doing whatever he was doing Aleks dismissed himself, heading towards the room he’d shoved his bags in when he'd first arrived and started exploring.

It was a small study with a haphazardly made-up stretcher set up in the middle, so Aleks had figured it was his. There was enough room for it not to be cramped, but not quite enough for it to be considered decent accommodation in any way. Now, he wasn’t picky, but the sheer amount of dust on the single bare shelf was both sort of gross and suspicious. Was this room ever used? Was this _house_ ever used?

Storing the questions away for later, Aleks went to kneel by his bag. The flimsy little lock on his bag still had the key in it. It was too much of a hassle to unzip the whole thing so Aleks settled for opening it enough to worm one hand in. It would have been faster just to open the whole thing and search properly, but he just couldn’t be bothered. He found what he was looking for soon enough anyway, drawing out the opaque plastic bag from inside with a satisfied sigh.

Opening it up he was greeted by the sight of pills, some wacked out new ketamine mix he’d been planning to use if there was any sign the squad would try to torture and interrogate him. He figured now was good enough and took out a single pill before stuffing the rest back in his bag, not bothering to lock it again before leaving the room. He swallowed the pill dry, something he’d never enjoyed doing, and resisted pulling a face at the feeling it left in his throat.

Aleks knew it was just a placebo effect that had set his heart hammering so quickly after the pill touched his tongue, and beyond a basic idea of what ketamine did on its own, he really wasn’t sure how it would affect him. Not yet, anyway. The concoction had been trialled and deemed safe, at least, but drugs were different for everyone so it was probably safer to sit down for a bit and see where things went. With any luck, it would knock him right out. With any real luck, it would knock him out for the whole week.

As he returned to the now empty lounge he imagined the best-case scenario, a scene in which he’d be unconscious for a week. Maybe a month. Shit, that’d be nice. Not having to deal with his shitty crew and the shitty cops for a whole month.

His skin itched.

It was probably the drug.

The air felt dry and scratchy and cold and hot and like everything around him was suddenly blurry but also too much and—

Yeah, that was definitely the drug.


	3. Chapter 3

Aleks didn’t know when the irritation he'd experienced in his room gave way to an enjoyable warmth, but by the time he noticed it or much of anything at all, he had somehow become sandwiched between two bodies. He had also, somehow, migrated from his room to the couch in the lounge, which was okay. The TV was on. He saw Han’s face and Leia’s face and C-3PO’s… face? Thing? They blended together in his mind for a moment and he had to look away to avoid confusion.

Aleks tipped his head to the left and examined James, and he looked like he was mouthing lines from the film. Aleks pulled a face at that. Nerd. He wanted to look at who was on his right, getting distracted by Star Wars again before he could see. Funny. It was a funny movie. Aleks thought about how his crew would never manage to sit through a movie together. Fucking idiots would get into a fight or something. Aleks liked that, maybe. Loved his crew, maybe.

Damn, Aleks loved his crew. He should have been with them in the warehouse. He should have been doing cocaine at a party with Brett, or laughing at James for convincing Trevor and Jakob to eat paint while Joe filmed it and acted innocent. Not this. How could his crew sell him out and gift him to the police like this, did they not want him? Were they doing all those other things right now, without Aleks? He had to go see, he had to know if they needed him, he had to run right now, he had to…

He was breathing too hard, chest tight, unable to focus on anything. Arms and bodies pressed against him, surrounding him in nothing but warmth and an attempt at what might've been comfort. He didn’t want that, he wanted personal space and to run and to see his own stupid James’ stupid face again. A clumsy hand dragged through his hair, similar to how his James would after a night of too much idiocy. Was this his James? Had the crew come to save him and take him home?

No, it wasn’t possible. He was still on the couch with the Squad. There was distinct lack of cow patterned furniture and decorum and dildos. He was observant for noticing that.

Aleks was dragged gently into Squad-James’ lap, blinking owlishly as he found himself with only James’ chest to lean back against and his thigh to rest on rather than the couch, looking down to see his own legs bracketing the new thigh-seat. It looked strange, seeing James’ leg and then an Aleks leg, then _another_ James leg and _another_ Aleks leg. It was weird enough that it broke the cloud of panic that had been descending over Aleks’ mind as he tried to figure out what he was looking at. He noticed the movie again at the top of his vision, some explosion or large colourful piece grabbing his attention, and looked up to watch it without really taking it in. The tension left his body gradually as he became absorbed by the film, leaving him boneless leaning back against James chest.

It was nice right up until Aleks felt heat spread through his limbs again, this time without the presence of panic and replaced instead by something potentially more shameful. He pressed back slightly into the body behind him, testing the waters and evaluating his own reactions, trying to hunt down exactly what he was feeling. He didn’t even have to pretend it was Brett or his own James, and it was still nice. Very nice. Nice.

This was a bad side effect. Bad and not good. Aleks decided he should make a note of it.

The lights came on and blasted harsh illumination around the room, distracting Aleks again and he gave a noise of disapproval, eyes slamming shut to block out the assault on his vision. 

Had the movie finished? How long ago? The black screen that Aleks saw when he cracked an eye open confirmed that it was done. Slowly he managed to open his eyes properly, hoping to catch sight of a clock, only for any attempts to be thwarted by Cib’s face suddenly entering into view. He crouched down in front of him, leaning in slightly to examine him.

“James, Aleks is totally blushing right now,” Cib cooed after some awkward observation, reaching out a hand to grip Aleks’ chin and turn his face to the side. Aleks pushed his arm away, lucid enough to manage that small feat of rebellion.

Jeremy’s face joined Cib’s, mouth forming words that seemed delayed by half a second, asking Aleks something. Something about if Aleks was experiencing side effects of whatever it was he took.

No shit, Jerm.

“Nah dude, he just likes being in James’ lap too much,” Cib answered for Aleks, words lining up perfectly fine in comparison to Jeremy’s unsettling, lagging movements. Cib’s focus was too sharp, intent altering his usually clouded demeanour. That should’ve meant something, maybe.

James scoffed, the movement of it jostling Aleks a bit, but Aleks felt him stiffen in discomfort despite his sound of dismissal. He placed his hands on Aleks’ shoulders as if about to push him off, but Cib planted his own palms on Aleks’ thighs and looked past him to lock eyes with James.

“Can I kiss him?” Cib asked, tone conversational.

What? Kiss? Kiss Aleks? Why was he asking James? Why was he asking? Kiss?

James made a sound of disapproval. He undeniably wanted to argue something, but Aleks was sick of floating at the edges and fed up with people bartering over him like he wasn’t there. He could make the decision for once. He could prove it, show them he had a say in his own fucking life and wasn’t just something in a bet or someone to be talked about like a pet.

He leaned forward impulsively, hands grabbing Cib by the shirt and slotting their mouths together in something that was meant to be a kiss. He tried, taking pride in the surprised sound from Cib and the noise of protest from James, even as he missed at first and caught only the corner of Cib’s mouth. It took a moment to correct himself and ease into a lazy, deeper kiss that was just pressing his open mouth to Cib’s.

James was not into it, shoving Aleks’ shoulders and pushing him into Cib and onto the floor, retreating to the other end of the couch with a creative plethora expletives. Aleks didn’t notice, kneeling in front of Cib who was crouched unsteadily, wobbling as Aleks pushed against him. The two swayed slightly as Cib allowed Aleks to do what he wanted, and it was far from dignified for either of them. Aleks was happy though. He was in charge.

The moment was broken by Steven’s voice cutting in, and then Cib pulling away obediently. Maybe Aleks was just super fucking high, but Steven sounded genuinely threatening when he ordered “Cib, stop that,” before adding “gross” under his breath.

Cib gave a lazy smile, lips shiny with spit, but didn’t hesitate to obey orders and retreat to stand up and stretch. Aleks was too slow and dizzy to follow him, only able to listen as Cib responded with an all too pleased “tastes good,” which… Okay, yeah, Steven was right. That was gross.

“Wait until he’s sober, it’s not like you’re running out of time. We still have six days,” Steven warned, voice getting closer. He replaced Cib, eyes narrowed as he moved to where Aleks could see him. The squinting either meant he was inspecting him, or his eyesight was shittier than Aleks had thought. “He has to remember sucking your face off to be able to regret it, right?”

The words elicited a snort from James, who was still pressed to the other end of the couch, and another from Aleks a moment later after taking a little longer to process the words. They drifted in and out of his mind, the full meaning escaping him entirely.

“Dark,” Cib said after a moment, watching Steven watch Aleks.

“Also, fucking someone when they’re this fucked up is so— it’s so many different levels of wrong.” Aleks shivered at Steven’s words, hoping he didn’t notice. “Jesus Christ, Cib, why do I have to explain this to you? Did you miss the entirety of Sex Ed over there?”

God, Aleks _wanted_ now, Steven’s words drifting over his head as he elected to watch his lips rather than listen to the words coming out of them. He was so fucked, but at least he could recognize it, right? Did it matter that he was high if he knew that he was?

He still wanted to kiss, too. It hadn’t been that long since his last fuck, really, but shit he felt so desperate. It might’ve been another effect of the drug. It might not have been. 

Aleks swayed towards Steven, tilting his head as he tried to press their lips together. The other boy expected it, or something like it, must’ve done, but he still fumbled to push Aleks away with a clumsy palm to the face. It wasn’t very effective. The hand slid from Aleks’ face, back into his hair and tugged, pulling him back via his hair. It was very effective.

Too effective.

The tug went straight to the bottom of Aleks’ stomach, his back arching slightly. He didn’t give away quite how much he liked the touch, the _pain_ , lucid enough to be embarrassed by that at the very least.

Steven was talking to him again. Telling him to relax. To calm the fuck down.

How could he? He was in hostile territory. Behind enemy lines.

Steven’s hand then left his hair and he was gone, melted off out of sight. He tried to follow the movement but he realized that he was beginning to slowly fall sideways. The drugs weren’t as kind by then, and the ache in his arms and fingers warned him against movement of any kind, even to correct his fall.

The room was still tipping. Someone, James probably, grabbed the back of Aleks’ shirt and yanked him back to lean against the couch. 

Aleks relaxed there, the thought of moving anymore triggering a distasteful roll in his stomach.

Time slipped past, lost again, but finally the drug seemed to be wearing off. A reasonably short lifespan, then, but still longer than the effects of normal ketamine. Somewhere from four to eight hours, maybe. Aleks was on the ground, leaning back against the couch, shirt damp with what was either sweat, drool, or something unknown. Maybe all three. The house was silent, aside from the lone person lying abandoned on the ground a short distance from him. It was still dark outside. 

Aleks straightened up into a more comfortable sitting position with his legs stretched out and back against the couch, looking over at the body that was recognizable by the shirtlessness and headband. Aleks tuned in to what the now apparently inebriated Cib was saying. He must have had a decent amount to drink because he was talking about work, something about the station and Burnie. Aleks leaned forward just enough to catch the tail end of Cib’s semi-conscious murmurings. They seemed to be directed at Aleks anyway, so it wasn’t really eavesdropping.

“You know, I thought- I thought you’d be smaller. You, you looked smaller,” Cib stopped for a moment to take a breath and think, humming distractedly for a few seconds before continuing, “smaller through a scope.”

Aleks regretted having sobered up, the words chilling to hear even from someone as vapid as Cib. Maybe it was worse _because_ it was Cib. Aleks wanted for him to be talking about a camera scope. He doubted it was. People in Los Santos usually preferred the scope of a gun, and even though Cib was on the side of the law, the Squad weren’t known for following rules. The thought of Cib having had a gun trained on him made him feel unsettled.

Aleks felt bile rise in his throat, putting the sensation down to an effect of his fear right up until the moment he bent to the side and threw up.


	4. Chapter 4

Day broke and with the morning brought with it the inevitable comedown from the high. Someone had cleaned Aleks up, although only going as far as to put him a new shirt. The taste and smell of vomit still lingered on him, bitter and making his stomach roll uncomfortably.

He was little more than a zombie as he dragged himself to his feet, making his way to the hallway where he thought he remembered something vaguely resembling a bathroom being. After taking his time washing up— fuck he looked destroyed— he wandered towards the noises coming from the kitchen.

Cib had been arguably more fucked up than Aleks during the brief one-sided conversation in the lounge, so how he’d managed to overcome his hangover enough to be dancing around the kitchen was a mystery to Aleks. He was still shirtless from the night before, something nobody seemed bothered about, which meant everyone in the Squad was just accustomed to this sort of thing. What was really disconcerting was that Aleks was becoming acclimatized to it as well and he'd only been with them for a day.

Everyone was doing their own thing around the middle kitchen island, although after a quick scan Aleks noted that Jeremy was absent. Steven was working on an attempt to make something on the stove, James was trying to get the toaster to work, and Parker was helping James by pedantically sticking his hands in the way. James was becoming increasingly strained at the flail of limbs and Aleks failed to find the two unamusing.

Nobody stopped to look at Aleks, the only acknowledgement coming from Parker who glanced at him briefly before resolutely turning his attention back to the toaster, a pout pulling at his mouth. What the fuck was his problem? Ah shit, right, the stunt Aleks had pulled the day before. Yeah, Aleks could understand that. He wandered over to Paker, keeping his eyes on the toaster as he cleared his throat.

“Uh, hey, Parker. I wanted to, to say sorry for the bullshit from yesterday, and… that…” Aleks trailed off, unsure how to continue. Things felt flipped, with him apologizing for what he’d done even though he was the hostage here. Was he really sorry? Why was being around people so hard?

Parker looked at him again, less hostile than before. He gave a hum of recognition, but Aleks hardly knew if it was aimed at him or in answer to James’ suggestion of shaking the toaster that he'd helpfully chimed in with.

Cib was still dancing and by the time Aleks had moved on from his subpar apology Steven was joining in, in his own way. He looked too gangly and awkward to be anything except amusing, hips swaying to an imaginary beat that didn't match Cib's at all. Aleks watched and couldn’t help but find it funny, even more so after the two began pulling dramatic faces of concentration and ecstasy. Aleks let out a strangled laugh as Cib started shimmying around Steven like a bird of ambiguous origin and even more ambiguous intelligence.

The horror at the domesticity of the moment washed the humour away quickly, a bitter chaser to a cloyingly sweet feeling of tenderness. Aleks schooled his features and his emotions before he could settle in too far; he wasn’t there to be buddies with the cops, he was there because of the bet. He was glad that nobody had noticed him enjoying himself because that would've been catastrophic.

“Thanks for the shirt by the way,” Aleks interrupted, scorn covering any genuine gratefulness as he tried to break up the scene in front of him. It was a shirt with Cib’s name on it. Who the fuck owned a shirt with their name on it?

“Oh, that was—“ “You’re _welcome_ ,” “—Autum’s idea,” Steven informed, not bothered at all by Cib’s interruption in a maybe-British accent. “She said you’d need it or that you smelled or something? I don’t know.”

Autumn? Who the fuck was Autumn?

“Who’s… who is Aut— Jesus _fuck_ ,” Aleks interrupted himself as he noticed for the first time a girl seated at the dining table, laptop open and Alek’s phone plugged in. She had headphones on and didn’t look up, engrossed in whatever she was doing. As soon as he got over his shock Aleks strode over and hastily yanked his phone out, disgruntled both by her seemingly sudden appearance and that she’d had his phone.

“Who is she? What is she doing with my phone?” Aleks was frowning, looking at his phone as he stabbed at the ‘on’ button with his thumb, increasingly annoyed when it still refused to comply. At least that meant she couldn’t get anything from it, right? He looked up at her when nobody answered, tempted to bat her headphones off in the name of petty revenge.

Aleks realized the sound of movement behind him had stopped and turned to look at the rest of the squad. His eyes were drawn to James, first, who looked tense, possibly out of protectiveness over the girl. Parker was watching with a blank expression while absentmindedly sticking his fingers in the toaster. Cib and Steven looked highly amused, which never meant anything good.

“You don’t even know about Autumn? God, you guys are even dumber than we thought,” Steven sighed.

“Why— What?” Aleks was so confused.

“We know pretty much everything about Fake Chop and you don’t even know Autumn? You’re kidding, that’s so rude,” Steven insisted, managing a look that was both delighted and a little sarcastic. Aleks didn’t know people could have a sarcastic facial expression, but Steven managed it.

“Whaddabout Alfredo? Big man Alfredo? Sweet talkin’, baby-faced, pincer-boy Alfredo?” Cib asked, leaning against the kitchen bench in a way that was probably supposed to be nonchalant, but because he was standing so far away and had to lean too far over, it instead put him at an angle that just looked uncomfortable.

“No…?” Aleks pulled a face, not sure what was happening. Was he supposed to know?

“Wow, wow.” Steven’s eyebrows were getting dangerously close to his hairline. Any more and Aleks thought somebody should warn him that they’d merge with his hair and he’d lose what little facial hair he had.

“Wow,” Cib repeated, mimicking Steven and lending the word a terrible southern accent.

“You’re acting like I should know this shit. We don’t give a fuck about you guys, man. You’re annoying, but that’s it,” Aleks snorted. He wasn’t bluffing. Sure, Fake Chop had basic notes on Squad 7, consisting of post-its stuck here and there with comments on them, mostly comments like ‘Steven is a gun’, ‘Steven Suckdick’, ‘fuck cib’ and ‘thats gay’. Any potential research that had been done would have been by Trevor and Joe, but even they wouldn’t delve any deeper than public records. It just didn’t matter that much to them.

Cib made a sound like a wounded animal, standing up again and turning to look at Steven with what might’ve been a hurt expression. Steven made a sympathetic noise, one that he probably thought sounded convincing, sparing Cib a brief look of mock commiseration.

Tuning them out Aleks began to think, properly _think_ about the situation. Maybe Squad 7 were far more serious about this than Fake Chop was? The downfall of the Los Santos Police Department was that they were too logical to keep up with the Chop boys, and if the Squad fell too far into the same path then Fake Chop would be able to outpace them in just the same way.

Since Aleks was stuck with them anyway, developing a plan to dissect their dynamics and determine what they knew would be easier to do here than from the warehouse.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The pancakes Steven had made were nothing special, made from a premade box mix and plated with most of the final product burnt on one side. The food was warm though, and even though it sat heavy in Aleks’ stomach at least eating it had occupied him. He could think and not be bothered, a rare moment of blessed respite from the badgering of Squad 7. The peace was broken as soon as he was done, which he had dejectedly expected.

“I’m just curious about what you remember from last night,” Steven said, approaching Aleks as the two of them moved their empty plates to the sink. “You know, with whatever drugs you were on.”

Aleks didn’t want to talk to anybody at that moment, let alone about the events of the last twenty-four hours. He cleared his throat, fighting the urge to look away and hide the embarrassment he could feel. He was a criminal, right, so surely he could talk his way through such a trivial situation. 

“Not that much, actually,” Aleks answered, followed by a nerve-fuelled, too blasé laugh. It was a shitty lie. He’d failed that miserably. He was a bad criminal and a disappointment to his crew.

Steven didn’t believe him. Well, whatever, there was a reason Aleks left all the talk to the other members of Fake Chop. He could flaunt and posture and sneer all he wanted, but it was Brett and James who could handle conversations, not him. It was probably a good thing that it wasn’t his memory of the previous night that Steven was actually interested in.

“Yeah, okay, great, but have you considered that getting high on illegal substances around actual officers of the law was maybe, uh, not a great idea?”

Aleks had spent so much energy on trying to be intimidating around the Squad, even going so far as to grasp at his own negativity and physical nausea to keep away from the warm and fluffies, and it was all futile in face of that one sentence. He couldn’t stop surprised laughter from escaping, Steven’s deadpan and humourless suggestion setting him off. The subtle, surprised quirk of Steven’s eyebrows at the outburst didn’t help, either, and had Aleks fighting to suppress even more laughter. 

“Oh, wow, I did not expect you to laugh like a twelve-year-old boy, though,” Steven teased, the obscure insult successfully extinguishing Aleks’ humour. At least it gave him the sobriety needed to press his lips together and look down at his feet to compose himself, expression quickly reverting back to the preferred scowl.

Aleks should’ve been on his guard, both because of his profession and his current predicament, but he was caught completely by surprise when two arms wrapped around his middle and dragged him back into a secure hug. He jolted and tried to break away on instinct but the arms just wrapped tighter as the body curved itself over his back, a chin hooking over his shoulder. He tilted his head to check who was attacking him and was answered with the side of Cib’s face pressed against his. Of course it was Cib.

It was Steven’s turn to laugh as Aleks tried in vain to jerk himself away from the embrace, but whatever easy moment had just passed between he and Aleks had shattered. Where Aleks’ laughter had been genuine, Steven’s was derogatory and cruel, like there was a secret joke only he knew the set-up to, and he was watching the punchline unfold right in front of him. 

Aleks threw his emotional walls right the fuck back up, fucking chucked a moat around that business, the sudden tensing of muscles noticed by the man plastered against his back. Cib gave a squeeze in response to Aleks’ evident reversion to hostility, the action serving as some kind of mock support that only made everything that little bit worse.

Aleks was beginning to feel sick again. It wasn’t the drugs. The hangover from earlier had been tangible, with sharp headaches and rolling dizziness. Now there was a blanket of general repulsion falling over Aleks and getting into his chest and head— they were getting into his _head_. Shit.

He was not stupid. A little oblivious and far too cocky for his own good? Yeah, maybe, but he wasn’t stupid. They were being methodical, or at least as methodical as the Squad could get. The creeping feeling of _not right_ was so steady, so unalarming, that Aleks didn’t know how to logically handle it. Trust your gut and escape, a voice in his head told him. It sounded like Fake Chop James. There was no immediate danger, wait it out, another mental voice countered. That one was more of a Brett. Shitfuck.

Aleks didn’t know what was worse; not knowing what their plan was, that he only just realized there even was a plan, or that whatever that plan was, it appeared to be working. It was all loose, intangible threads around him, but now he knew those threads were there and some bullshit web was being spun around him. Shitfuckfuck.

Steven had turned away, then, noticing the dawning apprehension on Aleks’ face and not wanting to encourage whatever conclusions he was drawing. Steven cleared his throat and went about uselessly organizing the dirty dishes on the counter to extract himself. As though he was going to be the one to clean them, ha.

“So, Aleks, about this situation. There are rules. Bet rules and house rules,” Steven said.

Good God Aleks was easily distracted, his eyes narrowing and lips drawing together in a display of disgust, completely focused on Steven’s forced chirpy tone. Steven was glad that such an easy diversion tactic had worked, even if he was a little disappointed that it worked on someone who was supposed to be an actual threat. 

“I don’t need house rules,” Aleks protested, “I’m not a dog.” He was already baulking at the thought of further restrictions.

“Then, house rule one, don’t pee on the carpet. Unless I say so.”

“Ew, what the fuck, why would I—"

“Two, no leaving the house. Three, no more assaulting us, it’s so uncivilized.”

“And you _are_ civilized? Bullsh—”

“Four, —”

“Stop interrupting me,” Aleks huffed, “it’s annoyi—"

“Four, don’t tell me what to do. Five, no work talk unless I say so. Or James says so. Or Jeremy, or Autumn, but otherwise no work stuff, just, at all. Six, I guess just do whatever we say.”

“No way, man, I’m not gonna be your bitch. No.”

“Huh, figures, I thought maybe that was a bit too far anyway, so I’ll just, uh, cross that off. Now, what was it, six? Six, don’t interact with Alfredo.”

“I still don’t even know who that is.”

“Yeah.”

Aleks waited for Steven to continue, but he’d finished uselessly rearranging the dishes and was looking at his fingers, greasy with food residue, with an offended expression. Without so much as making eye contact, he turned and wiped the food off on the front of Aleks’ borrowed shirt. Cib’s phlegmy ‘Yuck’ in his ear was somehow more revolting than being used as a towel.

“House rule seven, don’t try getting into locked rooms. That shouldn’t have to be a rule, but you are an idiot,” Steven continued, leaning back to rest against the counter with his arms crossed. He was posing like a smug bitch.

Aleks snorted, finally relaxing into Cib’s hug, shifting his weight to accommodate Cib when he responded in kind by leaning his entire weight on Aleks. 

“Is that why you picked me?” Aleks asked, irritation visible. It was a throwaway question, he didn’t expect a real answer, but the hard squeeze from Cib and noise of disapproval from Steven piqued his interest. “Because I’m dumb?”

“We didn’t pick you because you’re an idiot, we wanted you from the start because of, well, _that_ ,” Steven nodded towards Cib, who had tipped his head and placed his open mouth on Aleks’ neck. It wasn’t a kiss or a hickey, far too sloppy to be much of anything at all, and Aleks had gone back to trying to escape from Cib’s hold. It was even harder than before, the pain of the previous day’s beating reemerging and stoking Aleks’ distress.

This time around Steven did nothing to stop Cib’s affections, just shifting slightly as he watched Aleks eventually manage to pry Cib away with a clawed hand to his face. By the time Aleks managed to get free, keeping Cib at a distance with constant shoves and slaps, he had noticed how silent the kitchen had become.

As he looked around he noted that everyone else was pointedly interested in anything that wasn’t the sexually uncomfortable situation Aleks had just been caught in. 

“Ooh, awkward,” Cib hissed, as though it hadn’t been his fault. As though he was embarrassed for Aleks.

“That wasn’t even an answer.” Aleks ignored Cib, digging into Steven’s excuse. “‘This’ is some stupid prank that was never fucking funny.”

“Who’s laughing?” Steven replied, tone as flat as ever. Cib raised his hand. Steven shook his head slowly. Cib lowered his hand. “Cib’s always been deadly serious about this, uh, I would say to a frankly alarming degree.” 

“Uh, contraire actually, Steve, I plead the fifth,” Cib stuttered dramatically, looking at Steven with an accusatory glare. 

“You refuse to testify against yourself due to potential self-damning or humiliating evidence? Can you do that if you’re Canadian, Cib?” Jeremy asked from where he was standing next to Steven, and even though Aleks was certain he hadn’t heard the man come in and hadn’t noticed him at all until that moment, nobody else seemed to be surprised. 

“How do you even do that, dude? What?” Aleks asked Jeremy, irritation and incredulity evident in his strained tone.

“What?” Jeremy repeated back to him, looking surprised at Aleks’ direct inquiry. He looked down at the mug in his hands, then back up at Aleks, confusion apparent even through his sunglasses. “Are you asking me how I… make coffee?”

Aleks was just about ready to locate Parker and tackle him again out of pure frustration when James’ urgent voice cut in to tell everyone they’d received an urgent summon from work. Any indignation Aleks had been feeling fled immediately, because if Squad 7 were being called into work then it was likely that Fake Chop were blowing shit up somewhere. Aside from Cib, who lit up at the announcement, every member of Squad 7 seemed to slump a little bit at the announcement.

“Can you guys not take just one goddamn day off?” Steven asked incredulously, side-eyeing Aleks like he was the one who just opened fire in a bank or something. 

“Have fun, guys,” Aleks leered, feeling unease and tension ebb away as each officer began making their way out of the room. He’d have the house to himself. He could relax. He could draw on the fucking walls if he wanted. He could snoop around for intel. So many beautiful possibilities.  
Except that his thoughts were interrupted by a loud slurp from the counter where Jeremy was still relaxing. 

Excitement curbed, Aleks gave Jeremy a scathing once-over. He was the last person that Aleks wanted to fuck with, so potential fuckery would have to wait.

“Shouldn’t you go with them?” Aleks urged expectantly. 

“Oh, I am,” Jeremy assured, making no move to leave. Aleks blinked. Jeremy slurped. They stayed that way even as the sounds of Squad activity died out. They stayed like that even after the sound of vehicles had started up and then sped away. They stayed like that until Jeremy placed his empty mug on the counter and walked forward to kissed Aleks squarely on the mouth. 

Aleks immediately flung himself away from the contact, eyes flying wide and then slamming shut as he stumbled back. He waited for further assault, something that was becoming a key facet of his time there, but when nothing came he slowly cracked his eyes open only to find Jeremy was gone and the kitchen was empty.

“No,” Aleks said after having spun around a few times searching for him. “No.” He walked further into the kitchen, looking for any sign of the cryptic man. “No, no. No.” Aleks did not agree with this. He didn’t agree. Jeremy had vanished. People weren’t supposed to vanish and everything was terrible.

* * *

It had been half an hour since the Squad had left. Aleks had once more found himself in the lounge, sitting comfortably on the couch and flicking through news channels to try and get some insight into what his crew might be doing. There was nothing, no sign. His real motivation had been to catch a live feed that would let him know for sure that the Squad were occupied and wouldn’t walk back in at an inopportune moment. He wanted to explore his prison while he was sure he wouldn’t be interrupted or impeded, but waiting for assurance was only wasting time for what could be his only opportunity. 

He didn’t know what security measures would be active in the house, didn’t know who or what would be set up in honour of his presence, but figured he was good enough at his job to get past whatever came up. Best case scenario, he stumbled on a pinboard with red string and suspect pictures like the ones TV cops had, and within that found enough information to bring the Squad down by himself. That sounded so cool. Aleks didn’t think about the worse case scenario, springing to his feet and immediately making his way around the house, investigating every piece of furniture and decor as he went.

The house, located just on the fringe of Los Santos, was far bigger than Aleks had originally estimated. Fancy, too, with three bedrooms, a master bedroom, a car garage built somewhere around the back. It was one of the nicest houses Aleks had actually been in legally, he was sure.

It didn’t take long for Aleks grew bored with his thorough investigation, though, deciding that his best option was to try to get into any of the locked doors Steven had explicitly told him not to enter. Fuck the police, right? He’d established that there were only two locked doors anyway, both down the same short hallway that had the bathroom attached. Nothing impressive, really, but still promising.

Lock picking was easy. The doors had one beneath the doorknob and then a simple sturdy chain on the inside. Surely they hadn’t really expected to keep Aleks out, not with shit like that, which served as a reminder that he should stay cautious. Cautious and quick, just in case there were traps in place or whatever. Who knew what those assholes had planned.

The first bedroom yielded clothes in suitcases, chains, shovels, rope, a laptop, and two messy beds. The suitcases confirmed his suspicions that the Squad didn’t live in the place, and the laptop had the potential for much more. The other junk was just odd. Aleks felt a prickle of vehemence toward the shovel in particular.

Aleks pulled something small out of his pocket, pleased with himself as he plugged it into a USB port on the laptop. Really, Trevor had been so useful with all the classy spy shit he’d obtained for the crew. They didn’t care where it came from, really, just that it was high-tech, cool, and free.

It wasn’t a miracle worker, it would take time to unlock and download any information, but it was inconspicuous and could download a shit tonne of data without leaving a trace. Aleks expected the thing to sit there for a while, so he hesitated on retrieving it when it lit up green to announce completion just a few moments after he’d put it in. Either breaking in had been impossible for the little device or there just hadn’t been much to steal, but either way, it was done and Aleks could move onto the next room.

The second bedroom had the same lock and the same layout but was lacking in ominous garden instruments. Instead of a simple laptop there was a desk with a heftier looking laptop on it, and Aleks could already tell that this would take longer. Either that monster of a hard drive was for heavy-duty gaming or heavy-duty police fuckery, and considering it was identical to the one Autumn had plugged his phone into earlier, Aleks was pretty confident it was the latter. 

As he felt around the edges of the device for a suitable port he heard a low hum, steadily growing in volume. It took him a moment to realize it was the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway, and then another moment to process that he was out of time and probably screwed. After a few seconds of hasty scrambling, Aleks managed to jam the spyware into the computer and sprint out of the room, forcing himself to calm down and carefully lock it again behind him. 

Just as the front door opened with a harsh bang Aleks threw himself into the bathroom down the hall, locking the door behind him with a relieved gasp. His eyes flew to the bath and he rushed to it, turning it on full blast. There, a perfect cover. He could just say that he wanted to bathe, which would make more than enough sense considering how disgusting he’d been that morning.

Actually, the water really did look enticing, and the bath was imposingly large. After making sure the bathroom door was locked he shimmied out of Cib’s shirt and the rest of his clothes and jumped in the tub. Nobody called out to him or tried to ascertain his whereabouts, so he decided he was either safe or absolutely fucked, and either way, he would enjoy his bath.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the people cried "shit bro that aleks x steven" and i whispered back "get a load of that jeremy guy, huh?"
> 
> this does come with the typical disclaimer of 'it's 3 am and i'm super under pressure and shouldn't be doing this now but i am and that's why this frankenstein and their monster are bad quality'

By the time Aleks dragged himself out of the bath there was enough noise coming from the rest of the house that he figured it was safe to assume the whole Squad was back and gathered in the kitchen, which was just perfect, really, because that meant that they stood between Aleks and a set of clean clothes from his room. 

None of his options were fantastic, really. He _could_ put his dirty clothes on and walk straight through to his room to change, but the thought of covering his clean skin with the stained garments was objectively nauseating.

So, then, another option was to call out and ask someone to bring him fresh clothes, which was not really an option at all. Not only was it embarrassing, it left too many opportunities for the Squad to mess with him. His last possible course of action that he could see was to just walk through the house in just a towel like nothing was wrong. He’d done worse while wearing less in the name of criminal activity, right?

The only towels in the room were monstrously fluffy, bright red, and felt brand new. After drying himself off he hesitated, the towel only just reaching his knees when wrapped around his waist, but it would do the job. He just had to go before he psyched himself out and became paralyzed by indecision and got trapped in the bathroom forever. Brett would be delighted to learn that Aleks had simply lain down and perished on the tiles of Squad 7’s bathroom, he was sure of it.

Hair dripping and skin still damp, Aleks slowly opened the door of the bathroom, peeking his head out to check for witnesses. Not that it mattered, though, he’d have to cross through a room full of them soon enough. With tense shoulders and a frown to match, Aleks padded down the hallway and stalked purposefully towards the kitchen. 

The Squad were either complete morons or just didn’t expect Aleks to ever be in any way as stealthy as a near-naked man coming out of the bath, because even though they were keeping their voices low, they were talking openly and without regard for secrecy. He could hear every word they were saying even from outside of the kitchen area.

He hadn’t been planning to spy on them, hadn't even thought of it, but froze just out of sight on the other side of the doorway when he heard them mention the word ‘crew’. Hoping and fearing to hear something about Fake Chop, Aleks pressed himself flat against the wall, holding his breath as he listened.

“... stupid, why would they even try? Why were we even called?” That was Steven, voice pitched even higher than normal, voice shot through with indignance. “We’re not supposed to be called out for this anymore.” 

“Especially not when we’ve told them we’re busy,” James agreed, more thoughtful than Aleks had ever heard him. 

“I don’t… Mmm, we shot one of them anyway, so, like, no biggie dealie.” Aleks almost didn’t recognize Cib’s voice. It was still him, of course, whining in a way no normal fucking adult should, but he sounded measured and even a little forceful. It was abnormal to Aleks, to hear Cib talk in a way that sounded so clear, but rather than linger on how he said it, Aleks’ stomach clenched at _what_ he’d said

Shot, not killed, that was the keyword, but they were still Aleks’ friends, and the thought of any one of them being injured by the Squad while he was playing glorified lapdog for them was nauseating. Fear and anger clashed and twisted in his stomach, churning into a weight so heavy it made his whole body feel sluggish and strung too tightly.

The second that he stepped into the kitchen he felt like a really shit Cinderella walking into the ball, with everybody turning to look at him in the magnificent gown his fairy Godmother had gifted him with. Except his fairy Godmother was hard drugs and the transformation she’d bestowed on him had brought vomit and, consequently, a bath and nudity. Cool.

The scrutiny he suddenly found himself under was nearly enough to deter him from his nervous warpath. Base instinct told him to scurry past or flip them all off with a sneer, but his worry won out and he walked up to Steven, hyper-aware of his own body and movements as everybody watched him.

“What happened?” Aleks demanded, jutting his chin out as he looked up at Steven, obstinately refusing to acknowledge the surprised looks of the Squad around him. Steven, for his part, didn’t look shocked at all, evenly meeting Aleks’ glare.

“What, ‘what happened’?” Steven asked, head tilting to the side in mock confusion.

“Who got shot, you asshole!” Aleks snapped, pushing into Steven’s space. The intended effect was, perhaps, diminished due to his state of dress and the water still dripping from the ends of his hair at every other movement, but Aleks did his best to be intimidating. It was hard when Steven was so tall, having to look down on Aleks at such a steep angle that his glasses started to slip down his nose.

“Funnily enough, nobody you need to worry about, Aleks. Not anymore, at least.” Steven’s voice was so derisive and arrogant that Aleks was ready to let go of his towel and start fighting all over again. With one hand holding his towel up and the other at his side and curled into a fist, Aleks was genuinely considering it.

“Burger and Fakes, dude,” Cib interjected, sliding himself between Aleks and Steven. Aleks quickly stepped back, not especially interested having his bare chest pressed against Cib’s while in front of a crowd.

“Yeah, Cib, we’ve already established that you’re nuts and I don’t understand… Cibblish.”

“Cibblish, ha, smooth,” Steven jeered, mirroring Aleks and taking a step back from Cib.

“Shut up, Steve. Cib, don’t fucking mess with me, tell me what happened,” Aleks demanded, “What did they do? Do you know why they did it? What happened?” 

“They weren’t even alive then, you know? They didn’t even do anything,” Cib said placatingly, speaking sagely as though his words had meant anything at all.

“What? What the fuck? Does that mean they’re all dead? That they weren’t there? Cib, please, dude, I know you hate me, but this is serious shit,” Aleks changed tactic, giving in and pleading. So, what if he was having a mental breakdown, naked, in a kitchen surrounded by people that would’ve preferred him dead? It happened. It wasn’t the lowest he’d been by a long shot.

“Oh, come on Aleks, are you really going to listen to Cib? I know you’re an idiot but even you can do better than that,” Steven interjected, interrupting before Cib could respond to the plea. 

“You think you’re funny, you asshole?” Aleks ground out, stepping further into Cib’s space and looking past him to glower at Steven. “You think joking about my crew dying is that hilarious?” 

Cib raised a hand, causing Aleks to flinch away on instinct. All he did was raise it, though, like he was in school.

“I have an answer, sir, and it’s that we all think it is greatly hilarious. Is this for the bonus round, double points?”

It was like he was just so stupid that Aleks couldn’t bring himself to actually hit him, really. It’d be animal cruelty or child abuse or something, surely, and as Aleks stood there fuming at that particular mental impasse, Cib slowly reached a hand out. 

With his free hand, the one not holding his towel up, Aleks batted the limb away. Cib grabbed his wrist, holding it tightly while his other hand darted out and found its target. With a loud ‘boop’ Cib quickly pressed his index finger against one of Aleks’ nipples.

With a growl that escalated into a wordless exclamation, Aleks tore his hand free of the grip and batted Cib over the head, managing to repeat the action several times before a strong pair of arms had locked around his middle from behind and he was being dragged away.

“Hey, calm down, Aleks, don’t do this again,” Jeremy attempted to pacify, keeping a firm grasp around Aleks’ midriff. He was a shorter than Aleks, sure, but he was pretty fucking sturdy and unafraid of hurting him. The pain from Aleks’ previous fight really added to the indignity of it all, his ribs throbbing in protest beneath the grip.

“No, fuck you, Jeremy, you’re worse than he is. Let go of me, people can’t just disappear like you did, you’re fucking weird. You kissed me and I close my eyes for a _second_ and then you’re just gone? People don’t do that, man. Don’t touch me, let me hit him,” Aleks spat out, struggling frantically throughout his mental breakdown, body aching but mind racing.

Cib’s sudden, forceful laughter drowned out whatever Jeremy’s reply was, and then he was right in front of Aleks again, peeking over his shoulders to look at Jeremy.

“You kissed Aleks? Ha! You? Ha,” Cib questioned through increasingly blunt, punched out barks of laughter.

Aleks had shut up completely and was leaning back into Jeremy, taken completely aback by the viciousness coming from Cib and on the verge of shrinking away, blinking in shock at the outburst.

“Tricky boy, getting in and up on in here. That’s mucky yuck.” Cib pressed forward, clothing sticking to Aleks’ damp skin just enough to be uncomfortable, the heat of his body as pleasant as it was threatening as he pushed forward hard enough to push both Aleks and Jeremy a step backwards. Aleks' battered body protested at being sandwiched, curling a little to the left in a subconscious effort to protect his ribs, gritting his teeth against the pain that had begun to blossom.

Consequences were a concept Aleks was still getting a grasp on. He was, even at his age, still learning to understand that he should think about potential shitty outcomes to his shitty actions. The timespan of indecision he felt before bringing his knee up to knee Cib in the dick was, possibly, a full two seconds, which an improvement on what it would’ve been a few years ago. 

Aleks missed his exact target but still his knee still connected with Cib, driven brutally into his stomach. A hit, technically.

As Cib doubled over and stumbled back, winded from the unexpected assault, Aleks drew his leg back and struck again. His shin connected with the underside of Cib’s jaw and the resulting sting that shot up his leg was nothing compared to the satisfaction of watching Cib all but fly backwards. His body collided with Steven’s and the two dropped dramatically, Steven hitting the kitchen counter behind him on his way down.

Aleks was laughing erratically before they even hit the ground, although was quickly shut up as Jeremy tightened his grip and bodily dragged him away. It was for his own safety, a response to how James had shot up and over to the scuffle looking ready to tear open Aleks’ jugular, already reaching for the gun tucked in the back of his pants.

* * *

Aleks was released and pushed into his makeshift room by Jeremy, the little study room and camper bed a welcome sight, his bag containing his clothes doubly so.  
He’d missed the beautiful and terrible fallout of his actions but he was okay with that; the satisfaction of having managed it at all had been enough. Jeremy entered the room after shoving Aleks in, closing the door behind him and resting against it. The two of them were silent, processing what had happened and enjoying the peace. 

Aleks was enjoying the peace, anyway. 

Jeremy was trying to figure out what to say. 

Aleks strolled over and flopped onto his bed, ignoring the loud squeak it gave and how much it moved beneath him, maneuvering his towel so it was draped over his lap like a blanket. He settled back, hands behind his head as he watched Jeremy with a satisfied smile.

“That was brave,” Jeremy began, finally, pushing off the door and going to stand by the bed, taking his sunglasses off to look Aleks in the eyes. “You really proved yourself out there.”

“Yeah?”

“No, not at all. You really screwed up, Aleks, what were you thinking?”

“They joked about my crew,” Aleks answered, “joked about them dying.” He would do it all again in a heartbeat.

“So you thought you’d attack Cib? While he has all the power here, and his room is right on the other side of your door?”

“That’s Cib’s room we came through? That I’m stuck next to? Ha.” Aleks gave a sigh. The irony in that was beautiful. Then again, if Cib had any say in his placement then it wasn’t so much irony as it was a complete setup. “What’s he going to do, talk me to death through the door?”

“You have to know by now that there’s more to him than that,” Jeremy scolded. When Aleks gave him an odd look Jeremy just shook his head slowly, disappointed and disbelieving. “You really are an idiot. You think Cib’s completely useless? You think Chief Burns would allow that? That he’d still be alive if he was genuinely like this nonstop?” 

“Okay, I get it, yeah, he can be wild sometimes, that’s—”

“No, Aleks. He’s not some crazed screwball that goes a bit ‘wild’, not like how you’re thinking. He’s only human, like you, he _can_ get angry.”

“You say that like you’re not human. Should I laugh, be afraid, or…?”

“I’m trying to help you here, Aleks. I’m trying to be your friend. It’s good to have... friends.”

“Be afraid, got it.”

“Aleks,” Jeremy snapped, maintaining most of his composure in the face of Aleks’ petulance. “I have very little time for humans like you, and my patience is wearing thin.”

“Yeah, but you like me enough to kiss me, so, that’s cool.”

“That was a mistake, I admit. I was just curious about what they see in you because you seem no different from any other human to me—”

“Stop calling people ‘humans’, man. It’s weird and you only just started doing it, like, why?” Aleks cut in, breaking eye contact with him and tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “It’s not even funny,” he finished quietly, sounding far graver than was necessary. “Was it,” he took a breath and chewed over his words. “Was it to get at Cib? Is that why he was jealous?”

“Jealous? You really think he was jealous? You really don’t know, do you? I thought you were playing dumb. Are you playing dumb?” Jeremy muttered. “No, he’s just angry because I’m messing up his plans. Not jealous, he’s not jealous. He’d pass you around among strangers without batting an eye if it worked for him.”

Oh, well, wow, okay. Aleks was going to tactfully ignore that exposition. 

“Would kissing me kissing you again make him even more annoyed, or like, if we did anything more?” Aleks asked, looking back at Jeremy curiously, taking guilty pleasure in the frown that his features snapped into. 

Jeremy considered it soberly, oblivious to the attempt at allure that Aleks was laying on him, tilting his head from side-to-side in consideration before answering.

“Maybe, especially because I’m not even a part of the squad. It makes things worse, I think.”

The doubletake Aleks did was unnecessary, but still well justified, sitting up a little and watching Jeremy warily.

“You didn’t know that either?” Jeremy correctly interpreted Aleks’ confused expression. “You didn’t know I’m not a part of Squad 7? Oh, for fu— That makes me feel genuinely infuriated. You know, maybe I can see why they want to draw out your demise, you’re just so— I’m a traffic cop, Aleks.”

“A traffic cop?” Aleks all but squeaked, voice caught between indignant and bewildered not quite complying with how Aleks wanted to sound.

“I’m here for Parker, and only Parker, and Parker is here because, well, nobody in Los Santos knows how to be rational in matters of the heart,” Jeremy trailed off, tirade quickly running out of steam.

“Or dick,” Aleks chucks in after an uncomfortably long period of silence. Nobody in Los Santos knew how to control their damn dick, apparently, which explained why the best criminals were all women. To prove his own point Aleks stood up, holding his towel in place on his hips, and leaned forward enough to push into Jeremy’s space. He tilted his head just a bit, enough to indicate that he was going to go in for another kiss and give Jeremy plenty of time to pull away.

He did, mouth open and looking regretful as he moved back. He made a displeased noise, although whether it was aimed at Aleks or himself, Aleks wasn’t sure. 

“I’m not doing that again. I don’t trust you,” Jeremy sighed, words expelled on a forced monotone. 

“That’s fair, but it would be the least you could do for hitting me with a shovel.”

“Where does it stop after that, Aleks? After the”, Jeremy actually pulled a face before continuing, “kiss?”

“Wherever. We aren’t in love. We don’t like each other. It goes wherever we want it to. I mean, you’re weird, right? What weird shit are you into?”

“I’m actually incredibly vanilla.”

The two stood, blank face at the impasse before Aleks gave in with a breathy laugh.

“Well, then, you and Parker, huh?” Aleks asked, attempting to break the glacier-levels of ice between the two of them. He knew that Jeremy was technically a prisoner in this room, anyway, so he’d just have to make the most of it by trying to find some interesting conversation. There could be useful intel he could pry of him, anyway. 

Over the course of a few hours it seemed as though Aleks spent a majority of it talking to a wall; a Jeremy sized, Jeremy shaped wall, but the moments when he got a solid response made him feel genuinely happy.

* * *

The two boys were still talking when Aleks’ door swung open slowly. It had been long enough for them to descend into conversing about how awful traffic was around Los Santos on certain days and for Aleks’ stomach to have growled multiple times, the noise of it steadily becoming louder than the conversation.

Standing in the doorway looking far too intimidating considering the grin he’d taken up again, was Cib.  
Jeremy, on his feet the instant the door began to open, placed himself between Aleks and the door as soon as he saw that it was Cib, alone. He made his way towards Cib slowly, just a bit too staunch to be placating, as Cib walked forward. When the two were directly in front of each other there was a flurry of movement as Cib flailed and tried to spin his way around Jeremy, who caught him easily and pushed him back. 

“Jeremy,” Cib whined, “Jeremy, noooo.” He began to wiggle haplessly as Jeremy tried to escort him out, sticking his arms out wide to prevent himself from being pushed through the door completely. “Jeremy, I for-frog you. I frog-give you.” He slumped backwards for a moment before dropping like a stone, trying to dive between Jeremy’s legs to get past him. He succeeded in tripping him up, at least, sending Jeremy sprawling forwards in an attempt to keep himself upright.

Cib popped to his feet easily, back to Aleks and hand on the door, having managed to swap his and Jeremy’s positions. 

“Go screw Parker or something,” Cib suggested pleasantly. Jeremy didn’t look offended, just looking past Cib at Aleks. He almost seemed unsure, but not entirely too concerned for Aleks, which wasn’t really that assuring.

“If you have any sense you’ll kick Cib out and look the do—” Jeremy was cut off as the door slammed in his face.

Cib turned to Aleks with an exaggerated shimmy of his shoulders and started walking towards him. Aleks gave his best Steven impression in return, keeping his face as unimpressed but ultimately dispassionate as possible.

“Ready for the sleepover?”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon, Cib.”

“It’s five in the afternoon, Cib,” Cib mocked. “Sleepover time. We can play with our hair and talk about boys.”

Aleks wanted to sneer, to keep up his solid Steven impression, but he startled as Cib pressed the last few steps into his space, hands coming to rest quick and light on his bare shoulders. Aleks backed up a few steps to break the hold, annoyance dulled by curiosity as Cib followed him. What exactly was Cib planning to do? Fight him? Kiss him again? Aleks wouldn’t complain over either, but he would have preferred if he was dressed in more than just a towel he had covering his front.

He almost let out a laugh as his bare ass touched the wall behind him, shoulders quick to follow as he drew Cib back with him until there was nowhere to go. Fingers skated lightly down his shoulders to his arms and wrapped around his wrists. All the while Cib’s jovial expression did not change a bit.

Aleks expected it when Cib’s grasp turned assertive, slamming his wrists painfully against the wall at his sides, at the same time pressing his body in close. There was still a fraction of safe distance between them, but Cib’s hips were the only thing preventing Aleks’ towel from falling to the floor, prompting Aleks to press his hips into Cib’s to keep the towel in place.

“Nice,” Aleks breathed, pride refusing to let him give in and just smooch Cib like how he kind of really desperately wanted to. 

“You kicked me,” Cib stated. The smile had disappeared. He didn’t look angry, just unamused, but that was enough to make Aleks apprehensive. “Hurt me, which is against the rules. Hurt Steve, which I don’t like.”

“Look, dude, I didn’t even mean to hurt Steven, and you’re an asshole anyway, right?” Aleks hated how unsure he sounded.

“Don’t,” Cib shut him off, deep, careful breaths almost pushing his chest into contact with Aleks'. “Don’t do that. First, you just ignore me and go for Jeremy? You just go for Jeremy? Then, you give my best friend a concussion. None of that is very fun.”

“I told you, didn’t mean to hurt Steven, not that I feel that bad about it. What’s wrong with me and Jeremy? Jealous?” Aleks pressed, his own anger driven by irritation.

“No, I, just, I don’t—” Cib gave a huff. He was so normal, holy shit. Aleks was almost ready to pack it up and give in and kiss him, the polarizing confrontation from a serious man who was also _Cib_ enough of a stupidly thrilling mindfuck in itself, until Cib had to keep running his damn mouth. “If I was going to be jealous why would I pick the biggest slut in Los Santos to focus on?”

Aleks froze. Cib froze, too, breaking into a dopey smile again, as though that could cover the sudden frigidity in the room. Aleks lifted his chin, and although he and Cib were the same height he managed to look down on him. Not only had Aleks learned that Cib was entirely human, enough to be defeated and crushed and burned like the rest of the shit that scurried in the street, he’d realized that shame and being underestimated wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed. Doubly so when it was from a police officer.

His hands met Cib’s shoulders, an ironic parallel to Cib’s same actions from earlier not lost on Aleks, and pushed lightly, standing up and drawing his hips back. The towel fell to the floor without ceremony, not quite as dramatic as he would’ve liked. Cib looked down unapologetically, but defiance did wonders for Aleks’ pride and he stared silently at Cib until their eyes finally locked again.

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have,” Aleks said lightly, “but that will be your mistake, won’t it? It’ll be your mistake when I burn your headquarters to the ground, and when I ask Brett if I can hunt down every last one of you. Don’t fucking smile at me, you think you’ve got things sorted because, what? You’ve read a few things? You know our patterns? That’s funny, Cib, because then I guess you know that the only thing stopping both James and myself from killing your stupid group is Brett, right? You know how close I came to burning your real, first base, Steven’s pool shed of a house, to the ground the same fucking _night_ you fuckers slid into my life? Yeah, you got this, it’s just such a shame you picked the boring slut.”

Cib hadn’t stopped laughing since Aleks began, only spurring Aleks on, but by end it was clear he had slipped back into his absurd, harebrained mentality again, and that was actually okay. It was okay because Aleks knew it was just a front, now, and that beneath it was something he didn’t want him to see and, God, Aleks just knew it was nerves he was hiding now, if not a little bit of fear, and he just hoped he hadn’t given Cib too much ammunition to learn from. It felt fucking good, though, so he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Except instead of fleeing or attacking in any way, Cib was in his space once again, and yeah, that was a shitty attempt at a kiss, but it was still happening. There were hands on either side of Aleks’ face, flat-palmed and in no way demanding, as Cib tilted his head and pressed their mouths together. It didn’t start with much lip contact at all, skipping straight to open-mouthed, sloppy, and disgusting immediately. Aleks could really fucking dig that.

He considered readjusting their positions to something more comfortable, cracking his eyes open to assess what the fuck was happening, and broke away quickly when he saw that CIb was looking at him already. The faux-glee had melted away into grave intensity once more, and Aleks was going to get whiplash if that shit kept happening.

No. He called back on his outrage, using it to bodily push Cib towards the door. He didn’t like how that look made him feel, he didn’t like the implications of a smart, assessing Cib making him second-guess his every move. There was no resistance, and as Aleks closed the door after pushing him out, he thought on Jeremy’s earlier suggestion and slowly turned the lock until it clicked. Sure, he was still starving, but he just felt better about holing up in the study for the night. Just for the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I have always been bad at updates, as I'm sure you know, but this will be the last and (I hope) most disappointing.
> 
> Rooster Teeth and its family channels no longer interest me, and certainly have not inspired me to write since I last uploaded. It is my fault for publishing works that I had not finished, and I understand part of an unwritten oobligation of an author is that you should try complete what you've started, but I promise I had every intention of following them through. 
> 
> In the case of this fic, The Rabbit Hole, there is part of the next chapter written that I will post here now. It is unedited and unfinished and will remain that way. My GTA!AU started off with Miles Luna and Michael Jones, then I chucked Adam Kovic into the mix, and somehow this was where I ended up. It was really fun to plan and write, but again, all my inspiration for these pairings and this fandom as a whole has dwindled to nothing.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read and kudos and follow, and sorry for the bad news. Without further ado, here's what remains.

He wasn’t cold but he was still on the brink of shivering, the tense muscles and occasional twitch in his fingers threatening to give way to full body shudders. To think dealing with Cib had become as mentally taxing as a heist, it was hilarious. Absolutely hilarious. 

Aleks tensed his muscles to snap out of it, fingers and toes curling as he braced against nothing, before releasing the tension and walking stiffly over his bag and collapsing awkwardly down onto one knee. After what had happened he wanted to get covered as quickly as possible, irritation clinging to the feeling of being naked. His agitation increased as his attempts to unzip his bag were unsuccessfully, the zip catching with each attempt.

His mind too scattered to bother with something as high maintenance as going through all of his clothes until he found something suitable to sleep in, Aleks pinched at the first piece of clothing he made contact with after jamming his hand in through the small gap the zip had allowed. His prize was a pair of worn skinny jeans he’d crammed in while packing, which were going to be far from comfortable to sleep in.

He hadn’t given his outfits much thought, overwhelmed by fury at having been reeled into the bet and shoving items from his wardrobe into his bag at random. He was certain half the items he had chaotically stuffed into his bag would be useless to him. 

Rocking backward to lie flat on the ground, Aleks tugged his pants on and shimmied them up over his legs. It took some maneuvering, and another dip into the mystery bag of mixed clothes, before he was crawling over to his bed in his jeans and shirt. Not so comfortable, maybe, but he’d be ready to get up and do whatever he needed in the morning without having to get dressed. He was a genius, really.

“Nice,” Aleks announced to the empty room, peeling the rumpled blankets back and rolling in, and trying to ignore the way the stretcher creaked beneath him, because sure, why not, a rickety bed was only one more problem on top of the others. He was so tired he would be content to die on this creaking casket and be done with it all.

Aleks was restless, but he couldn’t fidget because every movement he made was answered dutifully by a noise of complaint from his bed. Without being under the influence of drugs or alcohol, sleep was proving elusive despite his exhaustion.

He was stuck lying still, his mind running too fast in a sharp contrast to his fatigued body. Whenever he found his mind traveling down paths too dark to dwell on he would catch himself, forcing his thoughts back onto more menial subjects. He couldn’t have his mind spiralling down any kind of rabbit hole or he’d lose his sanity.

Finally, breathing deep and thinking only of small nothings, he managed to slide into unconsciousness.  
He managed a full, beautiful hour of sleep before he was scooped up and drawn back into the waking world. It was a low thrumming sound on the other side of his door, the vibrations of it low and unobtrusive enough that Aleks could dismiss it. He rolled over, bed squeaking, and settled down to ignore the noise.

What hauled him awake was a loud bang and scrape at his door, the handle jiggling once before the hum on the other side grew louder. There was an audible shuffle and the noise increased tenfold, the music becoming clear and inescapable. 

Aleks had been a teenager, once. He had been a teenager in the 2000s and he was as scarred as the rest, recognizing the haunting melody as it beamed directly into his fight-or-flight instincts. He knew all the lyrics, could time it perfectly, after all these years. 

He was furious, bed tipping onto its side and flung back from the force of Aleks propelling off of it and stomping over to the door. 

“Hey! Turn that shit off, Cib,” Aleks yelled, slamming his palm on his door. It was Cib, he knew it was Cib. That fucking monster would be the only one to hate him this much. “Cib, I swear to-- you piece of shit, I’ll--” Aleks brought his fist down against the door in frustration.

There was a polite knock from the other side, only just audible over the noise.

Aleks knew he shouldn’t open his door, but he couldn’t handle what was happening and it was so tempting to go out and kick the shit out of whoever had woken him up. He had only just managed to fall asleep when his ears had been assailed by fucking _Metro Station_. He wasn’t actually going to open the door, though. He wasn’t, okay, he wasn’t a complete fool. 

He groaned, heaving back towards his bed and righting it, dumping the bedding on top and falling on top.

He lay there as ‘ _Shake It_ ’ came to its abrupt end. There was a beat of silence before the same song kicked back in, this time with the clear accompaniment of Cib’s own voice. He was warbling along, yelling the lyrics offkey.

Aleks clenched his teeth, cussing to nobody in particular and trying not to throw a tantrum. He hadn’t rested well in days. He was still hungover, exhausted, sore, and all he wanted was to sleep. It wasn’t much to ask.

It was on the tenth or so repeat of the song the music changed, switching to ‘What’s New Pussycat?’. Aleks found relief, something he’d never previously associated with the song which he barely knew to begin with, until half way through one sweet croon it switched abruptly back to ‘Shake It’.

Aleks whined in frustration, the noise trailing off into a groan. Once more he swung up onto his feet, careful not to send his stretcher flying again, and stomped the few steps to the door. With haste-clumsy fingers he unlocked it and swung it open, hand on his hip and a fire in his eyes.

It was Cib, he wasn’t at all surprised about that, but what he hadn’t expected was for him to be on one knee, bluetooth speaker carefully coddled to his chest, eyes glistening with emotion. 

Aleks leaned down and swatted the speaker out of Cib’s arms, sending him scrambling after it. He paused it once he reached it, and Aleks moved his leg out to step on Cib’s prone form. To his credit, Cib didn’t react past wiggling on the floor a bit, body shimmying side-to-side like a worm as Aleks increased the pressure.

“Why?” Aleks pleaded, voice rough from his attempt at sleep. “Why would you do this?”

“Sleepover, s--slapman, I’m sorry,” Cib simpered, still wiggling.

“Stop wiggling.”

Cib did not stop wiggling.

Aleks pulled his foot away with a grimace, stepping back into his room but leaving the door open.

“Boy time,” Cib crowed quietly, getting on his hands and knees and crawling forward, jamming his foot back to kick the door closed once he’d made it inside.

* * *

[Author's Note: Skip some shit here that's important to the plot. The beginnings of porn below here, but it's cringe and was written so long ago lmao sorryyyy]

* * *

Aleks didn’t get much time to study him as he ducked his head and gentle nosed along his collarbone, which would have been weird but this was Cib, so Aleks couldn’t find it in him to be surprised or deterred.

His hands spasmed, their grip on Cib’s forearms tightening as he opened his mouth and simply breathed in and out against Aleks’ skin, trying to drag in his smell and taste and eagerness without actually touching him.

The blistering air could have burned Aleks, but the wet heat of it made him shiver. Pushing his body up, back arched, he closed the gap between the two of them with a jolt. They both gave a small start, jerking slightly at the unexpected contact. 

The sensation of the drag of Cib’s dry lips and slick tongue on his skin made Aleks lurch again, this time curling inwards and drawing his chest away, the contrast overwhelming and too much. Too much.

Aleks’ shivered as the air cooled the area of wet skin, dropping into a pathetic tremble spreading from his tense stomach to his limbs, all his pent up tension seeking escape in the involuntary movement. Cib’s still open mouth curved up slightly as he felt the small tremors.

“Your boyfriends never fuck you proper?” Cib asked bluntly, drawing back and sitting up straight again.

“They don’t fuck me at all and they’re not my boyfriends,” Aleks mumbled, annoyed at Cib diverting his attention from his body to play word games. He didn’t feel shy, was enjoying the attention he was receiving, so his own demurity was an out of body experience in itself. Aleks was fast losing control or even understanding on the situation as well as himself. 

“You’re their mmm, coy boy toy?”

“Their what?” The mood was changing rapidly, the tension Aleks liked which had built up between the slipping into a familiar, unsexy awkwardness.

Cib considered it a success, though, thoroughly enjoying the discomfort and annoyance Aleks made little effort to hide. His crusade was triumphing faster and more effectively than he had planned for; it was fun, so far, and he revelled in Aleks’ blatant discomfort. 

He didn’t answer Aleks’ request for clarification, instead electing to duck his head again and drag his tongue across one of Aleks’ nipples.

Those hands that had been slowly relaxing on Cib’s arms were clenched again, harder this time, curling into claws. They were pushing and pulling and holding and if his fingernails were any sharper they would have drawn blood. Cib wouldn’t have minded.

“You have such nice tits, baby, your boyfriends never titfuck you?”

Aleks choked on nothing and reeled away, kept in place only by Cib’s hands sliding back from his hips, arms locking around him to draw their hips flush. Oh fuck, that was a lot of friction, a lot of stimulation Aleks couldn’t handle right now. He wondered briefly if wearing his underwear would have been better or worse for his predicament, discomfited by the feeling of the metal zipper on his pants pressed against his dick. His softening dick, because Cib really knew how to kill a mood.

“They never talk nastay to ya’ neither, huh? S’not very nice,” Cib continued, drawing the vowels in ‘nice’ out until it was a croon with several syllables. It was the least sexy thing Aleks had ever heard.

“Jesus Christ, dude, stop. Oh my God.” Aleks didn’t know whether to be offended, amused, or turned on and Cib’s bullshit. He settled for a low, agitated laugh, covering his conflicting emotions pretty fucking well. “No more.”

“No more?”

“No.”

“Not even if I do this?” Cib asked, quirking an eyebrow and giving Aleks what was probably supposed to be bedroom eyes. Probably.

“Oh shit,” Aleks responded, trying to keep the laugh out of his voice.“Go for it, ravage me.”

Cib readjusted his arms so one was still holding Aleks close and the other was free to sneak in between their bodies and pop open the button of Aleks’ jeans.

“’M gonna ravage you so hard,” Cib hummed, not even a little surprised by Aleks’ lack of underwear as he carefully pulled the zip down.

Aleks had never felt fear like he had then, with the sharp teeth of the zip threatening to pinch and murder his dick at any moment. Fear boners were a thing though, right, ‘cause he was hard as fuck. He tried to angle his hips so the zip wasn’t as much of a threat, but the movement pressed his body back hard into Cib’s arm around his waist. 

The pain that shot up his side wasn’t terrible, but it was unexpected enough that Aleks gave a sharp hiss and jolted forward, hand shooting to push Cib’s arm away and alleviate the pressure. Aleks had forgotten about the painful bruising up his side from the beating he’d received on his first day, but now that Cib had effectively squashed his bony arm into the injury Aleks couldn’t ignore it.

Cib had halfway undone the zipper but stilled at the sudden resistance. Aleks wanted to murder murdered him for stopping, plotting homicide even as he was thankful for the reprieve. Cib was looking at him, unimpressed and confused. 

“You guys hit me too hard,” Aleks offered as an explanation, twisting slightly to show the reason why he’d startled. 

Cib was looking up his side with interest, like he hadn’t know the discolouration was there and was only then seeing it for the first time. Aleks was offended Cib clearly hadn’t bothered to look over his body at all, which was rude and unobservant and entirely what Aleks’ should’ve expected from sex with Cib.

The way Cib looked at the injury, though, it made Aleks hesitate. It was intense, still something that he wasn’t quite used to from his rival, hands ghosting over the bruises and shifting circling to the ones on his belly. 

Cib was certainly interested in the injuries, the heat in his gut curling tightly at the marks he and his crew had manage to leave. The give of soft stomach beneath his fingers was enticing enough, and the way Aleks canted his hips to escape the deep jab was even more so.

The noise of discomfort that came from Aleks drew Cib’s attention away from his momentary fixation. That fucking tension was back in the room and the atmosphere was switching back to being charged with something restless. Aleks wanted to go back a few seconds, just rewind back to when where they were both smiling and he was about to get his dick touched.

He opened his mouth, waiting for words to come out that would set things right, but Cib’s hand was back on his zipper again and with a few short movements finally his hand was on Aleks’ dick. It felt so good, Aleks teeth clacking back together as he clenched his jaw to prevent any stupid sounds from escaping. 

Except Cib didn’t do anything. He kept his hand wrapped around Aleks, firm and unmoving as Aleks twitched in his grip and tried to keep his breathing under control.

Aleks’ hands found their way to Cib’s shoulders, shifting as he tried to get more pressure. 

“Nnn- Cib, move your fucking hand,” Aleks growled, injecting as much venom into his voice as he could manage in his situation. Cib complied, but not how Aleks wanted, the hand that had been holding him close sliding up his back and curling in his hair instead.

Without the support at his back Aleks’ was forced to move his hands to Cib’s shoulders to stay steady. He wasn’t sure how necessary it was, but holding on felt a lot safer than perching on Cib’s legs.

Aleks waited for the hand to tug at his hair. He hoped for it, wanted it so badly, arching his back further in anticipation. It never came, Cib’s hand sliding down to cup the side of Aleks’ head instead. It was soothing in the seconds before Cib used the position to push his thumb awkwardly into Aleks’ mouth. There was no teasing anymore, just a blunt presence on his tongue and the inside of his cheek.

“Cibf?” Aleks tried to ask, voice muffled and the word shaped strangely around the digit, wincing as the hand tightened briefly. He tried again, words even more slurred, and was greeted by a sharper increase in pressure, this one actually painful. Was it a punishment for talking?

His nostrils flared and eyes narrowed as he tried to assess the situation, painfully aware of the hand still unmoving around his dick and the saliva pooling in his mouth. Despite his best efforts to swallow it down, Cib’s thumb prevented his mouth from closing and had moved on to stroking back and forth on his tongue. He was tempted to bite down and get free, but the threat of the hand on his dick was a humbling and enticing one, so instead he tipped his head back to prevent any spit from escaping.

Everything had become unbearably awkward and Cib basked in it. Aleks was constantly shifting in his lap, trying to find something to _do_ in this position that was so perfectly on the cusp of being humiliating. He wanted to hurt him so badly, but was content with mentally undermining him instead, not wanting to scare him off so soon.

Aleks wondered if Cib would stop, if he asked. Cib was doing nothing, really, just holding him, and it was so intense he couldn’t escape the weight of it all. He was unable to stop himself from becoming increasingly distressed, the shivering threatened to start back up again as his body wound itself tighter and tighter under the pressure of being trapped and doing nothing.

Aleks rolled his hips experimentally, trying to get things going, but Cib jammed his thumb further back in Aleks’ throat and didn’t retreat until he gagged and stilled his movements. The same ice wash feeling he would usually associate with fear was steadily rolling through Aleks, seeping into his muscles and sinking in his stomach.

He couldn’t talk, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything without Cib putting pressure on him, so he was forced to sit still on Cib’s lap. To cover his agitation at being stuck in such a limbo he scowled at him, hiding the feeling of being untethered despite the press of physical contact between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was supposed to be wayyy more sex after this, but as someone who is asexual I got to the last scene there and realized I actually didn't know how I wanted this to go ever at all... which, for a fic that was written just to be an orgy, was a sort of major miscalculation on my part? So I stopped. I know a lot more now, and looking back at the above makes me embarrassed for myself, but I'm not going to fix it or offer anything better. So that's what you're stuck with.
> 
> Aleks also gets high later on, and locked in a room for Reasons, and while he's there he hooks his little USB up to a computer to see what dirt he's found. It has pics of Steven's life, just chill mostly, and it's a semi-shock to see he's quite close to the Funhaus gang, and that Autumn is hugging Bruce especially. Then he gets to one picture that sends him into a drug-fueled nightmare breakdown (we're talking tears and hysterics etc.) and that's a pic of a very young Brett being very chummy with a Very Young Steven. There's actually a number of pictures and videos of them together, looking friendly and close. Closer than Brett is with any of Fake Chop, and up until then Brett had acted as though he didn't know shit about Steven and his crew.
> 
> So yeah that's that. Aleks also has way more sex probably (it's all consensual of course. Enthusiastically so) and returned to Fake Chop safe and sort of sound. He's mad af at Brett tho.
> 
> Done. Bazinga. Bazingo. Bazongi. Bzcaingo.

**Author's Note:**

> hey. if any of the boys show express discomfort towards being in fic, i will remove them immediately.
> 
> feel free to scream criticism at me on here or at divinemalefactor.tumblr.com


End file.
